


Blood

by Melina



Series: Epigraph [3]
Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: Episode 1x03, Episode 1x04, Episode 1x05, Episode Related, F/M, episode 1x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melina/pseuds/Melina
Summary: Blood was the rhythm of Matthew's life.  The sound of it was a constant presence as it flowed through the veins of the warmbloods around him, as it thumped through their hearts relentlessly, over and over, dozens of times every minute, thousands of times each day.





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> For Samhain, for Halloween, for All Saints and All Souls, and anything else you find special or sacred at this uncanny time of the year.

Blood was the rhythm of Matthew's life. The sound of it was a constant presence as it flowed through the veins of the warmbloods around him, as it thumped through their hearts relentlessly, over and over, dozens of times every minute, thousands of times each day. All of those heartbeats, all of that blood, a never-ending cacophony. He could tune it out, of course he could, he would go mad if he couldn't. But whether he acknowledged it or not, it was always there.

The sound of blood flowing all around him was a constant reminder of his endless battle against the darkest parts of his nature. His inability to control himself was his deepest fear; he didn't trust that he could drink from a human, taking only as much as he needed, leaving the human safe and alive. So he sought human blood only rarely, feeding from animals, focusing his energy on his work instead of his hunger. He went to church every day, praying for strength and guidance and the absolution he was certain he could never find.

Then he met her. Diana's blood sang to him, and despite what he'd promised himself, what he'd told Hamish, he wasn't sure if he could trust himself around her. He'd decided to keep away, to protect her from a distance. But when he returned from Scotland, there she was, standing in front of his door, her scent full of raw emotion and fear.

He couldn't turn her away. But he tried to keep his distance as they spoke in his rooms, to avoid eye contact, to discourage her from seeking him out again by treating her with cool indifference. It hadn't worked. There was something about her, something beyond her beauty and her incredible scent and her compelling eyes. She had an abundance of courage, honesty, and a sense of right and wrong that melted his determination to stay away. Her enthusiasm was contagious, whether it was about Darwin or history or any other subject, and he couldn't help but warm to her keen intellect and bright spirit.

Her decision to trust him with what she knew about the manuscript touched him; he was aware that she was sharing far more with him than she had with Knox or the other witches. He could have simply thanked her, or kissed the top of her hand, if he was determined to indulge in such an antiquated gesture. But instead, unable to resist, he turned her hand over, exposing her wrist and the veins and arteries so clearly visible beneath her skin, and kissed her there instead. Her blood pulsed and sang and called to him, and the temptation seared through him, just this side of his ability to resist.

It wasn't until the ill-fated dinner in her rooms that his control nearly broke. He tried to tell her, to show her, the danger she faced from him, but she refused to listen. When she kissed him, it took everything he had to remain still, not to respond, terrified to the core of his being as to what might happen if he gave in to his feelings for her.

He fled, determined not to seek her out again. He spent the night in the forest near Woodstock, hunting, but animal blood was a poor substitute for what he wanted. His decision to avoid her didn't last a full day. He discovered the awful photographs in her rooms, and found her in the Bodleian, calling witchwind, her magic utterly beyond her control.

He helped her back to her rooms and kept watch while she slept, guarding her against harm. God help anyone who tried to come near her. He wanted to protect her, he wanted to be with her, but could he, without being overcome by the call of her blood?

It was their kiss that began to calm him, that started to quiet the craving. But it was more than than the kiss, as much as it made his heart sing. It was the ever-growing connection between them. When Domenico came to call at Sept-Tours, when Matthew felt their connection threatened her, he tried to frighten her, tried to leave her behind. He ran. Not for his sake, he told himself, but to avoid a war, to protect her.

But it was impossible, far too late for both of them. He went back to her, took her hand in his and bound them together forever. He surrendered completely to his desire for her, his love for her, embracing it with his whole heart. It helped him to bury the need for her blood, to push it firmly away. Not enough to banish it, but enough, perhaps, to shut it behind a strong door with a sturdy lock. He could crave her without craving her blood.

In the forecourt at Sept-Tours, after their promises were made and their souls bound, he kissed her, exploring her mouth with his, the desire between them a living thing. What did she taste like, she had asked back in Oxford? Like the sun, hot and inevitable and undeniable in its strength and power. He didn't need her blood to discover this, only her kiss, and the love she held for him in her heart.

In the moment after he bound himself to her, he accepted that his need for blood might be a part of him, a part he could never rid himself of completely. But it wouldn't own him, not anymore.

He belonged to her now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to monicawoe!
> 
> I feel like I should credit Suzanne Vega, too, because "Blood Makes Noise" would not shut the hell up in my head while I was writing the opening.


End file.
